Durin Reincarnate
by Ellerosa
Summary: Fili and Kili are long since dead, but a dream awakens them in the most unexpected of forms: Merry and Pippin. I don't own Lord of the Rings, or the Hobbit at all. For the sake of the context and plot, Merry and Pippin are brothers.
1. Chapter 1

Pippin awoke, his head aching terribly from the vivid dream he had dreamt that night. He tossed and turned, trying to rid his mind of the terrible images. The dragon smoke, the pain, and the battle; it was all so frighteningly real. What was this? He got up and looked about the room. His small bedroom in his Hobbit hole was empty but for his brother, sleeping soundly in the corner by the open window. By the looks of it, the sun had barely woken above the horizon.

It was Bilbo's birthday today. Bilbo of Bag End and his nephew, Frodo had been long friends of Merry and Pippin. They had played and fought and been schooled together as young dwarves, and had grown very fond of each other. It was a day for merriness, yet the two brothers were anything but. Pippin sat at breakfast, a small cup of tea in one hand and the other resting on his aching head. Merry sat across from him in much the same spirits. He had dreamt too of battles and dragons and the endless smoke.

"What do you think's the matter?" Pippin muttered, looking up at his brother. Merry only shook his head. He had not the slightest clue. But suddenly, recalling a certain name from his dream, he jolted upright and his eyes lit up with inkling.

"Bilbo Boggins," he whispered. He remembered the name being spoken in his dream.

"Boggins? Dear Merry, you've gone mad. It's Baggins," Pippin snickered despite his sore head. He was the type to find the humor in all things. Merry looked at him, the anticipation of comprehension pasted onto his expression.

"Exactly."

Pippin and Merry raced each other to the Hobbit hole at the top of the Shire, just beneath the grand old tree on top of the hill. Merry rapped urgently on the door, and soon it opened to reveal a very surprised Frodo. He smiled in his usual childish and cheerful way and ushered them in.

"What brings you to Bag End so early?" Frodo asked pleasantly as he took them into the kitchen and poured each a hot cup of chamomile tea. It was Bilbo's favorite, and the pantries were stocked full of it, so much so that the entire Hobbit hole stank of it.

"Is Bilbo home?" Pippin replied in question, and Frodo looked at him quite oddly. Pippin sipped at his tea awkwardly under the stare of his friend. Frodo's eyes were the most piercing shade of blue, and not at all unpleasant to look at, but when he stared, it was rather unsettling.

"He is. Have you come for him, then?"

Merry nodded, and Frodo sighed, He had thought they had come to see him. He told them to wait whilst he retrieved Bilbo, and soon all four of them sat merrily in the kitchen drinking tea.

"Bilbo," Pippin began, an heir of uncertainty in his voice. "Merry and I dreamt a dream last night. The very same dream of dragon's smoke and battles. You were in it, we think, only you were called Boggins."

Bilbo sat and listened to the young Hobbit, his expression warping from jollity to uneasy comprehension, and then to a small mischievous smile. So it was time that they had woken, he thought, and it was time for him to tell his story.

"There was only one man who ever called me Boggins," he mused nostalgically. He had long since removed it from his mind, but such an experience could never go away. He had loved each and every one of the dwarves that had taken him to the Lonely Mountain, and he regretted their deaths terribly. He felt the familiar ache in his heart return after so many years of absence. "His name was Kili, the dwarf, and his brother, Fili, were the heirs of Durin and Erebor. They were so much like you," he said.

"Fili and Kili?" Merry questioned. He had heard Bilbo talk of them once long ago in his famous tales of adventure. But he had never surmised them to be real. Suddenly, Pippin's demeanor changed, and Bilbo knew they had returned.

"Hello, Mr Boggins," said Pippin, but his voice was low and husky. He wore an expression of mischief, not unlike his usual, but it was darker. "It's been quite a long time, hasn't it?"

Bilbo smiled gleefully. So what he had assumed all these years had been true. Merry and Pippin were indeed the reincarnations of Kili and Fili. He turned to Merry to see his face changed too.

"Have you got any beer?" Merry asked suddenly, leaning forward to smile at Bilbo. Yes, Bilbo had missed these two. But they would not stay for long. Gandalf had told him of reincarnation. The spirits of their former selves manifested only once on the day preceding a full moon. Bilbo chuckled, feeling young once more, as Frodo stared in anxious confusion.

"Aye," replied Bilbo, "but I'm not giving it to you two!"

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Tada! This is an idea inspired by the lovely VanessaAndEllietheVamps. What do you think? This story will probably consist of short snippets of events throughout the LotR...please review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Fili and Kili, though in foreign bodies, remained much the same as they had always been. They were curious, humorous and filled with the buoyance and courage of youth. They had gone back to Merry and Pippin's Hobbit holes, eager to explore the environment that had been so foreign to them so long ago. They had only entered the Shire once, and had never returned, but it was just the same as they remembered it, though the inhabitants were less judgmental, considering they returned as Hobbits.

But the question begged on both of their minds: had Thorin reincarnated too? And what was he to be? Surely because Fili and Kili had managed to reincarnate together, Thorin would be close by too.

And so, they searched the house high and low, and unlocked memories in the minds of their hosts to find Thorin Oakenshield.

Fili stopped short. "Hey, Kili," he muttered slowly. His gaze was on the hearth, and Kili turned to follow it. The brothers spied a small thing perched on top of the hearth. It seemed to glare at them.

Kili approached it with uncertainty. It looked so familiar, yet so different. As he moved closer, he saw that it was a rock. It emanated an aura of majesty and darkness. Kili saw that their hosts had drawn on it eyes and a mouth, its expression dark and stern. It had a long beard of black horsehair with thin braids trailing down from its moustache. A tiny metal crown sat atop what Kili assumed was the rock's head.

"Fili," he murmured softly, picking up the rock gently and bringing it up in his palm to level his face. It seemed to glare stubbornly at him. Fili came beside his brother and his mouth dropped as he spied the rock. "I think this is him…"

"Uncle," Fili ventured. Thorin could see that it was his nephews, not Hobbits, who addressed him. "Is that you?"

Thorin remained silent, but he did not relax his fierce glare. Being a rock, he was condemned to silence and stillness for as long as he lived, and it was terrible. When the Hobbit brothers had found him, they had dressed him up and given him his appearance as it was now, with an uncanny likeness to his old self. But they had played with him, called him 'Thorin Oakenrock, rightful king of all rocks!" It had been a name they had gathered from Bilbo's old stories of him. He had watched Bilbo grow old as a rock, his affection for the man never wavering. He remembered the courage and bravery he had shown on their mission, and had never forgotten it. But now, as he saw his nephews peering at him, he only wished he was not a rock.

"He's not answering," said Kili. Fili slapped him hard across the head. Sometimes they could be so very stupid, Thorin thought.

"He's a rock! Of course he can't reply. But it is he, I am sure. Can't you feel it?"

Thorin strengthened his glare, but was silent. Perhaps if he flung himself at Fili, that would be proof enough. And so, with all his might, he launched himself from Kili's grasp and hit Fili straight in the forehead. Fili reeled back in surprise, yelping as he let Thorin fall to the floor with a heavy thunk. But it did not go as Thorin had expected.

Fili turned to Kili – Merry to Pippin – and launched himself on him. He pinned Kili to the ground and growled at him.

"You did that on purpose!"

Thorin sighed, though it did not show. His expression was _stone_ cold. Thorin Oakenrock, king of all rocks, cursed his bad luck.

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Second Chapter~ I hope you like it :)


	3. Chapter 3

There was nothing keeping Kili and Fili from trouble that night. As their aliases were known well for their fond regard of mischief as well, it was only expected that something mischievous would happen. Gandalf had deduced as much as he spied the two hobbits lurking by his wagon, which was filled with firecrackers. Upon his arrival in the Shire, he was delighted to find Frodo waiting for him, but was troubled when he comprehended the young hobbit's flustered state. Frodo had recounted the events of that morning to him, and whilst Gandalf was not displeased that the two dwarves, of whom he was quite fond, had returned, he had not expected it at all. The guilt Gandalf had felt when last he saw the dwarves' graves on that lonely mound at the foot of the mountain had been long since buried in his heart, but never forgotten. He had been the one to urge Thorin to take the quest, after all.

Gandalf chose to remain ignorant as to the purpose Kili and Fili found with his wagon, and focused on entertaining the little hobbits in his immediate presence. Gandalf had always held affection for the Shire and its constant merriness. It felt like a home to him – something of which he had been deprived for a very long time. But suddenly, there was a catastrophic boom as a firecracker was lit, and its sparkling beauty filled the sky. But it soon turned sinister as it took the form of a dragon and swooped low over the gathering like a dragon hunting its prey. It reminded him of Smaug, and how he had preyed on Laketown that dreadful night over sixty years ago. Gandalf, once recovered from the fright of the swooping dragon, looked to the secluded place from whence the firecracker had come. There, as he expected, stood Merry and Pippin, or as he knew them to presently be, Kili and Fili. Their expressions were numbed by the proximity of the explosion, ad their hair stood burnt on its end. He stalked over to them, and took them by the ears.

"I should have known," he murmured sternly. Fili and Kili glanced at him nervously, hoping that he might not recognize them. But they knew their hopes were made in vain; Gandalf would know already, he always knew. But suddenly Gandalf's expression broke into a delighted smile. He relinquished his grip on their ears and took them instead in a hearty embrace. He had missed these two very much indeed. "Fili and Kili."

"Gandalf!" Kili cried cheerfully as he returned the tight embrace. Fili chuckled merrily from the heart of the reunion. "It has been too long, old friend! Last time we saw each other, it was at the mercy of a dragon too. It seems to me that there is a precedent for our meetings," Kili finished humorously.

Gandalf let them go and stared long and hard at them. He found them to be Merry and Pippin, but their eyes and manners betrayed them. It was Kili and Fili returned for certain. But Gandlaf's expression thawed as he remembered a grave thought he had entertained earlier and posed to Frodo, who could not answer him.

"Is Thorin come too?" he asked, his weathered face falling into a forlorn expression. Gandalf felt most indebted to the great king under the mountain, Thorin Oakenshield, for he bore responsibility for Thorin's death. Fili pursed his lips and stuck his hand in his pocket. Gandalf watched him curiously as he fished around for something. As Fili's hand touched the thing he searched for, he grinned and produced it from his pocket. Gandalf's brow rose in mirthful disbelief. In Fili's hand laid a rock that resembled uncannily their uncle.

"Gandalf, meet Thorin Oakenrock, our uncle reincarnate," Fili announced proudly. As Gandalf peered curiously at the rock, he felt the undeniable fierceness of a glare that could only be Thorin's.

"Oh dear…" he mused. In condolence, he sank into a low bow before the rock. Gandalf offered his sympathies to Thorin for his misfortune. "How very ironic," he concluded, "that you, who was so very hard and unforgiving in personality, have become the very archetype of your nature."


End file.
